


Cocked And Loaded

by CatAvalon (CazinaIna)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crack, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Otabek Altin is a Dirty Tease, Smut, Strip Tease, Swearing, Teasing, Video & Computer Games, Yuri Plisetsky Swears, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CazinaIna/pseuds/CatAvalon
Summary: “Can’t you move?” Yuri says, at last glancing over to where he’s standing, and it’s the final straw for Otabek. “You’re kinda distracting.”I’ll show you distracting.*Otabek comes home whilst Yuri's playing video games, and decides to get his attention in the most suggestive way he can.





	Cocked And Loaded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaurasStarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurasStarlight/gifts).



> After seeing a tweet lovely LaurasStarlight posted on twitter, I knew I had to at least attempt to write something for it. I hope it's okay for y'all!

“You cock sucking, mother fucking, son of a bitch!”

 _Well_ , Otabek thinks, letting the door of their apartment swing closed behind him, he’s only home about ten minutes late. He’s even brought Yuri’s favourite soup from the bistro down the road, just to sweeten up his apology. “Yura, I’m-”

“You’re supposed to be holding point A, Katsudon, not fucking about in the midlands!” _Ah. That explains everything._

Dropping his keys in the dish on the sideboard, Otabek walks deeper into the apartment to find Yuri exactly where he knew he’d be, sprawled out over the sofa with a headset pushing back his hair. He’s stripped out of his training clothes and sits in just tiger print briefs and a raggedy old tee from Otabek’s training days in Canada, controller clenched in his hands and a bottle of diet coke left open on the floor beside him.

“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” Yuri continues, completely oblivious to Otabek’s arrival. Rapid, metallic clicks of gunfire explodes from the speakers, the TV splattered with fake blood and scenes of war. Yuri lets out another long string of curses as his screen fades to black, loud enough to scare Potya, who was dozing on the sofa beside him, scarpering to the bedroom.

“ _Yura_ ,” Otabek tries again, walking up behind him and resting his forearms on the sofa cushions. “Hey?”

“Hey,” he bites out, just before his character comes to life again and starts rushing over grasslands.

“I’ve missed you,” Otabek perseveres, leaning to press a kiss to Yuri’s cheek. He leans into it distractedly before quickly pulling away, yelling some more insults into the mic as his fingers fly across the buttons. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri says offhandedly, and when Otabek tries to kiss again, he shifts away from his touch, leaving Otabek staring blankly, _coldly_ , at the back of his boyfriend’s head.

Oh, this just wouldn’t _do_.

“I brought back food for when you want it,” he says, skirting the sofa and going to rest against the wall beside their flatscreen. Yuri’s eyes don’t flicker to him _once_. When he’s not cussing out someone, he’s chewing his lip in concentration- a concentration, Otabek thinks, that is usually reserved for when he’s taking Otabek’s dick. After a long day of sponsorship talks and promotional shoots, all he’d really wanted was to come back to his Yura, touch each other up- the sofa or their bed would have done- and fall asleep in a post-orgasm haze.

It looks like, and definitely not for the first time, he’s been cockblocked by an MMO.

“Can’t you move?” Yuri says, at last glancing over to where he’s standing, and it’s the final straw for Otabek. “You’re kinda distracting.”

 _I’ll show you distracting_.

He starts by kicking off his shoes, leaving them to lie upturned on the floor. If there’s one thing Yuri cannot stand, it’s when Otbaek’s biker boots are left strewn on his leopard fur rug. Otabek knows he’s irked him when a muscle clenches in his jaw, and the next insult that comes out his mouth is a little louder, a little harsher, than before.

“Why won’t they fucking die, stupid cunt,” he spits through his teeth. Otabek, who’s heard it all before, simply raises his eyebrows as he toes off his socks, balling them up in his fists and throwing them at Yuri’s head.

“Fucking stop it, Beka!” Yuri shouts, and _wow_ , his voice could cut a weaker man to pieces. Otabek’s learnt to live with all of Yuri’s bitterness, his sharp tongue and severe sentences, so he simply shrugs and unbuckles his belt.

If Yuri were watching him- which he still isn’t- he’d notice Otabek putting on a show, slowly sliding the leather from the loops of his jeans, thrusting his hips slightly in the process. Only the swift snap of the belt cracking against his palm garners Yuri’s attention, who simply snears and swipes his coke off the floor, taking a few long gulps.

Otabek watches him for a while, scooping up Potya into his arms when she slinks out of hiding and placing the soft kisses he cover Yuri in on her tiny, wet nose. She snuggles close to his chest, which feels extremely nice in the aftermath of romantic denial, cooing nonsensically at her and covering her pretty ears whenever Yuri starts up swearing again.

Eventually, Potya grows bored and begins mewling, and when Otabek drops her to the ground, she prances over to Yuri, sniffing at his bandaged toes and licking at his ankles. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice to pick up his princess- but Yuri’s in game-mode, and nothing about that can be classified as remotely normal. To Otabek, and Potya’s, horror, he shoos her away, waving his foot in an attempt to get Potya to scarper. Otabek’s heart aches at the mournful little meow Potya emits before stalking off to her food bowl.

 _Oh, this is bad_ , Otabek muses, furrowing his brow. Between a round, Yuri stretches, his shirt hiking up and revealing a slither of stomach, toned and taut. Otabek’s gaze lingers long after his skin is covered, the sweet taste of lust on his tongue, and he’s got it. A plan, an idea, something that balances precariously between fun and failure. _It’s time for torture._

He waits until Yuri’s attention flags before he slides the hem of his shirt up his torso, absently scratching at the trail of hair sinking into his jeans and not-so-subtly flexing his abdominals.

Yuri doesn’t even spare him a second glance.

Fingers skimming over his muscles, Otabek rakes his shirt up higher, lets his touch hover over pectorals, dancing around his nipples, before he discards the clothing entirely. Rolling his shoulders, Otabek bites on his lower lip, the mirror image of Yuri’s intense concentration, and runs his hands through his hair, tousling it across his forehead in the way he _knows_ Yuri likes- he’s endlessly playing with the natural curls that form during sleep, especially in lazy mornings when Otabek’s giving…

_Now that’s an idea._

Otabek continues his little game longer, unbuttoning his jeans and slowly peeling down the zip. The little metallic rips are masked by a new round of shouting, Yuri cursing everyone and everything to filth with words that would make his grandfather’s eyes bulge out of his skull. Grinning to himself, Otabek moves a little closer to the screen, and whilst the verbal violence is turned on him, he slowly begins to shimmy himself free from the denim encasing his legs.

“What are you doing?” Yuri says blankly, craning his neck to peer around Otabek’s now nearly naked body. Emboldened further by Yuri’s lack of attention, Otabek begins to palm himself through his boxers, growing hard at the sight of Yuri despite his slovenly appearance and vulgar mouth. In all honesty, he could be stuffed into a sack, streaked with sweat, thoroughly filthy, and Yuri would still be the most beautiful person Otabek’s ever laid his eyes on.

“You’re not paying enough attention to me, Yura,” Otabek says, sauntering towards him, still rubbing himself through his underwear. “I’ve been gone, all day, and you can’t even look at me for two _seconds_.”

“I’m kind of busy here, asshole,” Yuri says in exasperation, and then, “No, not you Yuuri. Beka.”

“Yura,” Otabek says, a gravelly grumble low in his chest, and he’s dropping to his knees in front of the sofa, hands on Yuri’s thighs and spreading them apart.

“What are you-” he cuts himself off as Otabek’s tongue runs up the inseam of his leg, nipping at soft skin until his nose is furrowed against Yuri’s crotch. “ _Beka_.”

It’s a low warning, the tone he uses when scolding Potya. Otabek lets it wash over him, sink into his skin and spur him on as he licks a long, hot strip up Yuri’s briefs, the musky taste of _him_ seeping through the fabric and settling on Otabek’s tongue. Yuri makes a noise that might have been a whimper, and Otabek’s eyes flicker up to meet wide, wild green eyes blinking down at him. His bitten lips form a perfect, pink _o_.

“I need you,” Otabek murmurs into the skin just above his hip, fingers creeping to the waistband of his underwear. For a moment, a hand comes to brush away Otabek’s hair from his forehead, but the touch is quickly gone. Taking it as permission to continue, Otabek hooks his thumbs into the elastic and tugs until Yuri’s dick is exposed. It’s not hard yet, but it twitches in interest, and Otabek runs his knuckles over the top of it until they’re nestled in the downy curls at the base. “So beautiful.”

“Stop!” Yuri shouts, but there’s a hint of a whine in his tone. Otabek stills, resting his cheek atop Yuri’s thigh, palms running up and down his calves. A tinny voice filters through Yuri’s headset- _who, me?_ “No, not you.”

“Do you really want me to stop, Yura?” Otabek sits back on his heels, places twin kisses to the tops of Yuri’s knees as his fingers trail down to rub little circles into the knoll of Yuri’s ankles. “Nod if you do.”

Bottom lip wavering, Yuri stares hard ahead of him, fingers flying over buttons despite the pinkness in his cheeks and the half-hardness resting against his thigh. Otabek pulls further away, and Yuri’s eyes shoot down, pupils blown, and _oh_. He’s into this, which really shouldn’t surprise Otabek considering he knows Yuri has an exhibitionist streak inside of him.

He shakes his head.

Tongue flicking out to dampen his suddenly parched lips, Otabek ghosts his fingertips over Yuri’s length, feeling it twitch under his touch. Once he’s sure yes, Yuri really does want to do this, he takes him in a loose fist and pumps, dragging his foreskin up and over the head and slowly back down again. Yuri continues talking, but his voice is distant, verging on quiet, lacking the bitter bite and scathing scorn that so vividly colours his words.

“Shit,” he breathes between gritted teeth when Otabek takes the head between his lips, sucking softly, one fist still working at the shaft whilst a free hand works its way up Yuri’s shirt, seeking the firming flesh of a nipple. _Are you okay?_ he distantly hears Yuuri ask, and at some point, Yuri answers a shaky affirmative, but all he can really hear are the wet sound of Yuri slipping between his lips, the thundering of his own heartbeat in his ears. “ _Fuck_.”

One of Yuri’s hands comes to rest against his cheek, and Otabek glances up to see Yuri’s head thrown back against the sofa cushion, lips parted and panting, a flush creeping in patches of rose down his neck and disappearing under his shirt. Through the thin, white cotton, Otabek can see his own fingers, the stiff peak of the nipple he isn’t caressing, and where the material has all but worn away, even more beautifully blushing skin. _The next match is starting up._ Yuri grazes his thumb to the corner of Otabek’s mouth before moving away and gripping his controller, knuckles bone white with how hard he’s holding it.

Hollowing his cheeks, Otabek takes as much of Yuri as he can into his mouth without choking. Although he’s got better at deepthroating, he’s no Yuri, who can take his dick into the back of his throat and deeper with the same effortlessness he tackles everything with. With a hand working at the base, Otabek builds up a rhythm that has Yuri writhing beneath him, sucking sharp breaths between his test, little noises of pleasure rumbling low in his chest. For someone so vocal, who’s such a vocal _lover_ , he’s curiously quiet, and when Otabek pulls off Yuri with a lewd smack, when he looks up whilst still stroking over his wet dick, he finds that this Yuri, who’s trying so hard to contain his expressions of ecstasy, is downright erotic.

 _Are you sure you’re alright, Yurio?_ and Otabek has the gall to repeat the words, breathing them against his sensitive skin and watching it throb beneath the attention. _You sound off-_ which is kind of hilarious considering how turned _on_ he is. Smirking, Otabek brushes his thumb over Yuri’s leaking slit, spreading the gathering precome over the head, before taking it into his mouth, humming at the intense taste of him saturating his tongue.

“I’m fine,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he hits the back of Otabek’s throat. He gags slightly, feeling tears building at the corners of his eyes, but if there’s one thing Otabek’s known for, it’s for his hero-like perseverance- and that also extends to sucking dick. He relaxes his throat further, takes Yuri in a little further on each try, and soon he can feel him tensing beneath him. “Oh _god_.”

 _Yurio wh-_ but Otabek can’t hear him over the almost animalistic moan that finally escapes his clenched teeth. Otabek would feel embarrassed if he wasn’t so turned on at Yuri’s response, feeling his own erection throb in his underwear at the sound. He continues sucking, and Yuri continues to whimper, instinctively thrusting into Otabek’s throat and causing him to choke. He pulls off slightly until he can easily work up a good rhythm again, and the moan the slips from Yuri’s lips when Otabek gently grazes his teeth on an updrag is downright pornographic. “I’ve gotta _go_.”

 _But we’re halfway thr_ \- but the headset is thrown off, the controller too, and Yuri’s hands are tight in Otabek’s hair, tugging him closer, as he _gets_ closer, and the babbling he loves begins to break through. “God, you’re so good. Oh my fucking _God_ , Beka, I love you.”

Otabek knows when his orgasm is close, can feel it in his trembling thighs and how jerky his thrusts become. Words fade into nothing but a low, incessant groan that dissolves suddenly into choked silence as Yuri jerks once before spilling over Otabek’s tongue and down his throat, fingers loosening to stroke at Otabek’s hair as he’s licked clean. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, Otabek pulls away, letting Yuri’s softening dick drop onto his stomach. Somewhere along the process, he completely sunk into the sofa, buried amongst the animal print throw pillows. It’s quite a sight, Russia’s finest deliciously debauched in his own living room. It reminds Otabek of his own arousal.

“Yura,” he says, voice hoarse and husky. Yuri extends a limp hand, but manages to summon the strength to pull Otabek onto the sofa with him. They kiss lazily as Yuri’s touch lowers to Otabek’s erection, gently pulling him from his boxers and slowly working him to completion. It doesn’t take long for the pleasure to build, poker hot and spilling from his stomach and over Yuri’s hand. A bite to his lips, to the sweet spot beneath his ear, and he’s gasping Yuri’s name, shuddering as Yuri works him through it, works a mark of his love into Otabek’s neck with teeth.

After Yuri wipes his hand clean on his shirt, he wraps his long limbs around him, a leg thrown over his, arms holding Otabek tight to his chest. The steady metronome of his heartbeat is enough to make Otabek drowsy, sated and sleepy and _oh so_ safe with Yuri beside him. He doesn’t let himself fall just yet, though. Even with Yuri’s fingers running through his hair, his lips brushing tenderly over any skin he can reach in his exhaustion, there’s still a little sour the swirls with the sweetness.

“Don’t ignore me like that again,” Otabek says quietly, feeling shy in his own insecurity. Yuri stiffens slightly beneath him, fingers frozen mid-combing. “Please.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and Otabek feels the apology rumble through his chest. “I am, Beka. Really.”

“I know, Yura.” They lie together in silence- or what would be silence if there wasn’t still shooting erupting from Yuri’s headset, and the occasion harsh shout...

Otabek’s blood runs cold. “You muted us, right?”

“Uhhh,” Yuri croaks. “Maybe?”

“ _Yura_.” Otabek rolls out of Yuri’s arms and stretches for the headset. _Please, if there is anyone up there, please-_ “Yuri Plisetsky!”

“I’m sorry!” Yuri takes the mic from Otabek’s hands, and he has to walk away as Yuri says a tentative _umm, hello?_

His stomach swoops as he hears a hesitant _hello_ answer back.

*

“I can’t believe-”

“Viktor, stop it,” Yuuri tries.

“That you had sex-”

“We didn’t have _sex_ , old man,” Yuri’s hands tighten around the laces of his skates.

“For my sweet Yuuri to hear,” he finally finished. For someone who gets outlandishly jealous if anyone all but skims their gaze over Yuuri’s ass, he doesn’t sound all that mad. If anything, he sounds amused. “How careless.”

“It was an _accident_ ,” Yuri says, exasperated. He stands, stretching out his arms, and Otabek does too, hoping they could get on the ice and just leave it all behind them.

“What, you somehow accidentally put your dick in Otabek’s mouth?”

“Vitya!” Yuuri exclaims, slapping his husband hard on the bicep.

“What about dick?” Mila asks, zipping past them on the rink. She jumps a double toe before gliding past again, stopping at where Viktor’s reclined against the sideboard. “I heard dick, right?”

“Little Yurochka here didn’t-...”

And in that moment, hands braced on a furiously quaking Yuri’s shoulders, Otabek knew they were never, _ever_ , going to be able to live it down.

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> Something a little different from what I normally post, I know xD Hopefully y'all don't mind though, this actually came kinda easily to me :L Also, the only MMO I play is Guild Wars 2 so I know it doesn't make too much sense- I just didn't wanna write in a keyboard tbh I'm sorry xD
> 
> Come find me here:
> 
> [ zeldaismyhomegirl](http://zeldaismyhomegirl.tumblr.com/)  
> [ @ItsCatAvalon](http://twitter.com/ItsCatAvalon)  
> See y'all soon!
> 
> xoxo Cat


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